Three Days With Elves
by Ventisquear
Summary: This is the true story describing the weird incident that happened in November 2012 when Zevran Arainai and Airam Surana suddenly appeared here in Bratislava and spent three days with me, their author. Yes, this includes self-isert. No, my name is not Mary Sue.
1. Day One

This story was written for two CMDA challenges: Modern Day AU and Self-insert. I started to write it in November last year. I believe I reached a whole new level of procrastination, with this story. It would never be finished without frequent poking of **Bloodsong**. She even made a wonderful picture for this story. Check it here: bloodsong13t. deviantart art/ Airam-and-Zevran-Shower-353779576 (delete spaces). Thank you, my friend.

And big thanks to Seika, for all her help and support.

For those who haven't read it at CMDA it means that this story will be updated again tomorrow and again on Tuesday and will be actually finished quickly, unlike the rest of my projects. ^^;

* * *

**Day One **

It was a normal evening, like so many others. I was writing the final chapter of the DA mystery story… well, trying to write. It wasn't going well at all. For two and half hours now, I would write a sentence, frown at it, decide it's pathetic, take a 'short break' and try again. So far I managed to finish a new morph, to select few pictures for a crazy gif as a punishment for certain insolent elven carpenter, play the silly match-three game with candied fruit and to decide that I hate clumsy Ezio and want to support the Templars, for a change.

And I still had only one sentence of the story.

With a deep, melodramatic sigh I crawled out of the sofa and decided to have a cup of Granko (granulated cocoa powder, one of the few reasons I still haven't emigrated across the ocean), and to turn on the TV. Maybe if I heard enough morbid and depressing things in news, it would inspire my writing.

But what I've seen in TV wasn't usual mix of tragedies, crimes, and political idiocy.

"_Two masked teenagers, apparently under the influence of alcohol or drugs, are causing havoc in the downtown," _said the reported with an enthusiastic grin._ "A car almost hit the traffic lights when they ran in front of the driver; the man is still in shock and was taken to the nearby hospital of Saint Ladislav; the doctors say he is not injured, but he is still confused, repeating that they 'appeared out of thin air' . He is convinced that they are aliens_."

"_What is the world coming to? Such indecency! It's all fault of all those terrible movies, there's no proper thing in TV these days,"_ screeched an elderly gentlemen standing right behind the reporter.

"_It's all because of computers! Today young people do nothing else but staring at the screen of those things, they don't care about sports any more, they spend their lives at that youbeto, and faycebok! No wonder they turn all crazy from it_!" added a very proper old lady with the hat and gloves that were old fashioned seventy years ago.

I rolled my eyes and wanted to change the station, when the reporter announced,

"_We managed to get the picture of the two bizarre delinquents taken by one of the citizens on his cell phone_."

The cup fell from my hand, hit the table, broke the handle, and the milk dripped in big, fat, brown drops on my brand new carpet; but I hardly noticed.

The faces staring at me from the screen belonged to Zev and Air.

oOo

Half an hour later, I was in the mall with my shocked best friend, buying hoodies, trousers, sunglasses, and sneakers.

"You're crazy. It can't be them," Lucy repeated for the millionth time, randomly picking two pajamas, socks and a pack of underpants–at least she didn't ask me for the size, this time.

"I know. But it is them," I replied, also for the millionth time, walking over to the cash desk as quickly as I could without looking as a thief. "We must find them."

"And how do you want to do that?" she insisted. "They could be anywhere!"

"I don't know! I just hope that whatever power brought them here will now take me to them. ASAP!"

Lucy rolled her eyes and took few things from me. "Did I say you're crazy? I take it back. You're absolutely insane. And I must be insane, too. I'm going with you, and I'm paying this."

We took the taxi to the place the reporter said they first dropped "out of the thin air", but we had no idea what to do next.

"You know them best. What would they do?"

I stared at Lucy. What would they do? What would they do. What would they do! The question echoed in my hopelessly empty brain.

"Calm down and focus," she ordered. "Imagine you're writing this as a story. What would Zev do? He'd probably want to protect his crazy mage, right?"

"Yeeeessss." I hesitated. "Zev would… It depends how far in the story they are–how long he's been training Air, you know, as an assassin… If Air already knows how to hide himself in shadows, they'd both do that, and they would sneak around until they found a place where they wouldn't stand out so much. But if Air doesn't know it yet–"

"Let's assume he does. It makes things easier," Lucy cut in. "Now. Which place could that be?"

"No idea. Maybe… a nightclub? But I don't know any… it's been ages since I cared for such things."

"Then we'll have to search for them in any club we find," she decided.

oOo

I wouldn't know there were so many clubs in the city. I thought there would be two or three, and that we'd be over quickly–and, in truth, I didn't believe we would find them. Eleven clubs and three hours later, however, we entered a little side alley and discovered a pub with the flashiest sign I've ever seen. "Seventh Level," it said. A gay club. We've been in two gay clubs before, but this one was... clearly different. We looked at each other.

"Yes," I said. "I bet they're there. But I'm not going in."

"You're writing about gays, remember?"

"And that's why I didn't have a problem entering into _Angels_," I snapped. "But this… and it's almost midnight! I'd like to survive this, thank you very much."

"But if they're in there, maybe they'll protect you," Lucy said. "And you can't abandon them! If it's really them, then this world must look like the worst nightmare. What kind of a heartless mother are you?"

"They're not my kids," I protested, but she was right–I couldn't abandon them now. "All right, but you're going with me," I said, grabbing her hand so that she couldn't change her mind at the last minute.

And I immediately knew we were in the right place. The outfits those guys were wearing… Zev and Air would be the mundane ones.

Of course, everyone turned to stare at us. The barman was the first one to recover from shock. "Is there any way I can help you, ladies?" he asked in a sweet tone, batting his eyes. If they were here, I'd kill Zev for dragging my Air into a place like this!

"Looking for friends," I said.

"And I already see them!" Lucy said with a smile. I turned to the direction she pointed, and sure enough, there they were. They were wearing long coats and ridiculous leather peaked caps–better not to think how they got them–but Air's white skin was too distinctive. It seemed Air wanted to bolt out and run away, but Zevran calmed him down. My heart broke over my poor, innocent mageling.

We went over to their table. Zevran flashed his most seductive smile at us, but his eyes were cold and wary, as if he was deciding if he should kill us or not.

"Is there something you wished from us?" he asked.

I looked at Lucy but she shrugged. "I helped you to find them. But the explanation is up to you."

"Thank you very much," I mumbled. "Well… first of all, we're not enemies, Zev. So keep your daggers hidden, all right?"

His eyes widened. "How do you know my name?"

"I know you. Zevran Arainai, the former Antivan Crow. And Airam Surana, an ice mage, son of Alim and Siwat, brother of little Mellit, grandson of Aadishwara–"

Airam's eyes widened. "Who are you? How do you know of them?"

"I know a lot about you, Air. My name is Lucia, and this is also Lucia, my best friend. There's no need to worry, I swear. So please, let me help you, all right? I got some clothes for you. Go to the toilets–"

"You think they'll find it? I mean, there's no such thing in Ferelden, is there?" Lucy cut in.

"True. And they better not ask for directions at this place." Several horrible images popped in my mind, all of them featuring men ogling Air and making a dirty comment, right before falling down on the ground, with a dagger protruding from their backs, or with their throat slit.

"Let's pay and get out of here," Lucy agreed. "I'll call the taxi."

I paid a surprisingly low bill, and few moments later, I had two startled elves, staring at the cab as if it was a Fade demon. It's a wonder Zevran didn't slit my throat, as I pushed them inside. And even bigger that the driver didn't call a police.

oOo

Unfortunately my friend had to go home after that, as she had an important meeting next day... with a potential mother in law. At least it was the weekend. Hopefully I would find some way to get them back to Ferelden before going back to work on Monday.

The first thing Air did when he entered my flat was wrinkle his nose and complain it smelled of sour milk. Ungrateful brat. But his smugness disappeared the moment I turned on the lights. His eyes widened and he closely examined the switch, turning the lights on and off and on again.

"What kind of magic is this? How is it possible the spell works without you casting?"

"Stop touching it, Air. It could be dangerous," Zevran warned him, looking nervously around him.

"It's not a spell, and it's safe. Now, come, I'll make you something to eat, you must be hungry–"

"We won't eat anything," Zevran cut in. "Air, I think we should go. This is too dangerous."

"Don't be dumb," I said. "This is not Thedas, if you haven't noticed it yet. You don't have much of a chance here without my help."

"We've got money. At least I think it's money. So don't worry, we'll manage," said the ungrateful brat, finally leaving the switch be.

"What do you mean, you have money? Where from?" I glared at him, but he just shot an apologetic look at Zev and didn't reply.

"Come on guys, this is serious. The police are already looking for you because of problems you caused in the high town; you're lucky no one was hurt. If you robbed–or killed–Andraste's sweet ass, Zev! Tell me you didn't assassinate anyone!"

Airam looked from one to another. "He didn't. We–"

"Don't talk to her, Air," Zevran snapped strictly and dragged Airam closer to himself. "Let's go."

I ran to the door and leaned on them. "Zevran, have sense. It's adorable that you want to protect my–I mean Air. But this is whole different world. Elves don't exist here. And neither do mages. But instead, we have things and weapons you can't imagine in your wildest nightmares. Daggers won't help you, and if anyone gets a hint of Air's magic… I'm afraid to even think what would they do to him. So please, let me help you. You're safe here. I'll give you food and shelter and I'll try to figure out how to bring you back home safely. And I don't want anything in return. I just want you to be safe."

Airam hesitated and turned to Zevran. "I think we can trust her, Zev. I don't know why, but I have a feeling I know her. She won't harm us, I'm sure of it."

"Of course I won't harm you! You're my… uh… _protégés_, shall we say. But I'd prefer to talk about that over a cup of a hot chocolate, if you don't mind."

Perhaps it was the promise of hot chocolate, but Zevran finally stopped glaring at me in the assassin-y manner. I knew that giving my boys a sweet tooth would come in handy, one day.

oOo

They insisted they knew how to use the bathroom. Until they saw it. Explaining to them how to use the shower stall and the toilet had to be one of the most awkward experiences in my life.

Zevran managed to take the shower without any major accident, if you don't count him coming to the kitchen without as much as a towel, asking if he couldn't sleep naked, instead. I finally managed to convince him to get into the bedroom and put on his pyjama, when the loud sound of the radio exploded from the bathroom, followed by a shriek and a hit.

Zevran bolted out of the room, almost throwing the door off the hinges, still half naked. I'll leave to your own imagination to guess which part of pyjama he was missing. "Air! Are you all right? What happened?"

Airam was standing in front of the bathroom, in a fighting pose and with a faint white aura around his hand. At least he had enough sense to wrap a towel around him.

"There are demons!" he declared. "I heard them! I wanted to press the button to make water disappear again and they started talking to me, in a weird language–"

"It's not weird!" I protested, quickly turning away. Zevran turned away, too. "And they were not demons. It's just a radio. It's... we use it to transfer voices to other people. For information, chitchat, songs... all kind of things. It's too complicated to explain, but they're just voices, not demons. Please, finish your cleaning and put your pyjama on, for the Maker's sake."

"Oh." Airam sounded embarrassed and I knew his ears turned bright pink. "About that. But, I… the bathroom is…"

"Let me guess. Frozen solid?"

"Not quite solid," he said. "It will unfreeze, eventually."

oOo

Finally they were both dressed. I must say I could see why Zev wanted to sleep naked. Zevran's was pale green with a print of tiny, pale pink hearts, and Airam's was yellow, with a bear and two fluffy ears sticking out of it on the top. Somehow, Lucy managed to pick the most girlish and childish pyjamas in the store–at the men's department. They were not happy, but, you know, those sullen faces made them even more adorable.

After Zevran carefully tasted the sandwiches and tea and forced Airam to drink a potion before touching them, they started eating and I went to check those coats they were wearing, trying to find any clues about who owned them.

Both of them were expensive brands, and brand new. In one of them I only found a dirty tissue and a half packet of chewing gums. In the breast pocket of the other one I found a purse. And in it over four thousand Euro, all in new, crispy notes of one hundred. No documents at all. Leave it to Zev to pick someone dirty rich, I thought, but I immediately realized one thing: dirty rich usually played dirty. Those guys were probably mafia. They would find us and kill us, first Zev then Air then me and then maybe my poor parents who live next door.

Good Lord, Maker and all other creative entities, how did I get myself into this mess? Don't get me wrong, I didn't love my boys any less than before, and I would do anything to help them… but in that dark moment, I honestly wished it was Sabhya who was transported from Thedas.

"Zevran. Tell me where and how you got those coats, now. Did you kill anyone?"

He glared at me, but at a nudge from Airam, he started talking after all. "No. We were sneaking around, trying to find some safe place to hide. As we neared another of those weird inns, the door opened and two very strong humans threw out a drunken man, then the next one. They were almost unable to stand on their legs, they had to support each other. And they had those long coats. People were staring at us, before, so I decided to take them. It was an easy enough job, they were too out to care. We put them on and sneaked away, until we saw the inn where you found us. We saw people going in there and it seemed there at least we wouldn't look so out of place. Then we saw people pay for their drinks using the paper slips we found in the leather pouch, so we figured out it was money. We were deciding on what to do next, when you appeared and dragged us here. You now. Who are you and how do you know about us?"

Here it was. An Hour of the Doom. How was I supposed to tell them they were not real, when they obviously were? But then Airam yawned. An excuse! I shook my head.

"Believe me, I also have a lot of questions. But it was a difficult day for all of us, and it's already very late. I suggest we go to sleep now and talk later. Okay?"

"Ohkaaaaaay," Airam yawned again.

Zevran wasn't convinced, but I was too tired to deal with a petulant assassin. "You didn't seem to think I was a threat when you walked in on me without any weapons. In the kitchen. If I wanted to kill you, I had the chance to butcher you right then and there."

"Truly?" A hungry black panther would give me a friendlier smile. "I think I can–"

"Wait, wait," Airam cut in. "You... were parading here naked? Where was I when that happened?"

Zevran shrugged. "At the tiny white latrine, I think. Why? Would you like to see it, too?"

"Maker, no!" Airam's ears turned pink again.

"You're not missing much," I said, and, ignoring Zevran's furious glare, moved to make up their bed.

Airam frowned. "But isn't this your bed? Where will you sleep? No, we can't accept this."

I smiled at him. "Don't worry about me. I'll sleep on the sofa–it's convertible."

It was clear he didn't understand what I said, so I showed them how it's done. They were both fascinated, especially Airam. They should have beds like that in the Tower, the rooms would be much less crammed–and it would be so easy to keep it neat! Crazy, lazy kid.

oOo

Airam was having nightmares.

Nightmares that _I_ invented.

Damn it, the character development and faults and all! Why didn't I write a story where he and Zev had loving families, met on the holiday, fell in love at the first sight and lived happily ever after? So what if it would be AU and OOC? At least I wouldn't have to listen to Airam crying.

In the end I couldn't stand it. I sneaked into the bedroom. Zevran seemed to be sound asleep, snoring slightly. Still, I wasn't fooled. When you babysit kids of your twenty-two cousins, you learn to tell when someone is pretending to be asleep. And besides, I happen to know that Zevran doesn't snore. I sat on the Airam's side of the bed, and stroke his cheek.

"I'm sorry," I whispered. In Slovak, of course. If Zev got a slightest suspicion that I was the cause of the nightmares... no, better not think of that, or I would have the nightmares, too.

Unsure what to do and still feeling guilty, I hummed the lullaby I use to sing to my little niece. It worked like a spell. Airam calmed down–and the snoring stopped, too, for a moment.

"Good night, Zev," I whispered as I tiptoed back to my room, and the snoring stopped completely. But no daggers appeared, so I took it as a victory.

I checked the time–three a.m. Oh well. I took a pill for headaches, washed my face in cold water, opened a big bottle of coke and a pack of sour lemon drops, and turned on my laptop. I had to figure out how they came here and how they could return home. And there was only one way to do it.

I had to write it, of course.


	2. Day Two

I woke up at the sound of footsteps and hurried whispering. Alarmed, I sat up–and immediately fell back. My head! Ow, ow, ow! I touched the top of my head expecting to find an axe, or at least an arrow or two, jammed in it. I was genuinely surprised when there was none. With a sigh, I sat up again, this time very slowly and checked the time at my cell phone. Seven eighteen. Whoever it was that woke me up at this inhuman hour on Saturday, was a dead man.

Of course, now that I was awake, I knew exactly who was to blame. I remembered everything, and I didn't doubt that it really happened. I've always been able to distinguish reality, however strange, from my dreams. Even if sometimes I'd prefer otherwise.

I got up, grabbed my clothes and dragged myself to the bathroom. To my surprise–I was not yet able to decide if it was a pleasant one or not–it wasn't frozen any more. Instead, it was a sauna, full of hot steam. But the floor was nice, dry and warm. It seemed water didn't leak down. One of my bosses from my previous jobs lives in the flat below me. It would be awkward to flood him... I guess.

Feeling slightly more alive and humanly, I went to see what my visitors were doing.

I politely knocked on the door of the bedroom, but there was no reply. After a moment of hesitation, I gathered the courage to peek in. The bedroom was empty. In my tiny flat it only leaved one option–well, unless they were both using a toilet, at the same time–they were in the kitchen. Which was much more terrifying option.

I returned to the living room, and found Airam there – looking most fantastic in jeans... why had nobody made a jeans mod for DAO? My boys need them!

"I'm sorry to disturb you," he said with an awkward smile that screamed 'trouble'. "But, we wanted to prepare a breakfast, and..."

I groaned. "Please tell me you didn't set anything on fire. Or freeze."

He blushed. "No, no, don't worry. We, um, we didn't find the stove. Zev thinks that the–the– well you know, the thing in the larder–that it's probably some kind of a stove, but we couldn't figure out how to lit the fire..."

In the meantime, Zevran had managed to open the fridge and carefully checked and sniffed everything he found there. It had to be a depressing sight for him. I'm not exactly a vegetarian, but I don't eat salami, sausages and that kind of things often. My fridge is full of strawberry yoghurts, all kinds of cheese and vegetable.

I got the feeling that it made me even more suspicious in his eyes.

"All right," I sighed. "What do you normally eat for breakfast?"

"Porridge with dried fruit," replied Airam and smiled. "But we won't be offended if you give us anything else."

"Something like pancakes?" I suggested, and had to grin when I saw the poorly veiled bliss on their faces. "So pancakes it is. Give me just a minute–I need to take some painkiller, I have a terrible headache. Not enough sleep–what?"

They were both staring at me. "You need to take a killer?" Airam asked.

"_Pain_killer. A medicine. I'm having a headache so terrible I'm barely able to walk and talk at the same time."

"Maybe I can help?" Airam offered. "I know a bit of healing magic."

My sweet, dear brat. If I wasn't afraid Zev would misunderstand, I'd hug him.

oOo

The breakfast was more or less a success. Except I blabbered that Air's healing was so fantastic that I should keep them here. You can imagine Zev's glares at that. Luckily, the pancakes fixed that problem.

After we finished eating, I stuffed the dishes into the washer. I think of all things, that fascinated Zevran the most, although he, of course, pretended to be cool. As if he could fool me. Then again, he couldn't know who I am... yet. But he was determined to find out, and very soon.

The next hour was one of the most difficult in my whole life. How do you explain someone that they're not real and shouldn't exist? Imagine someone told you that you're not just a fictional character, but a fan version of a fictional character created by someone else? And that there are thousands of similar versions of you, but loving someone else?

It didn't seem like a good idea, to say that to an assassin. Fictional character or not, the daggers he had with him were very real. Perfectly polished and sharp, too.

So I lied. I decided it would be easier–and healthier–for all of us.

I told them that a few people in this world could see what was going on in Thedas, and could help and guide several chosen people in there. Giving them hints, about what was going to happen. Even that was quite upsetting for them, and I had to assure them that their decisions were always their own. Well, that at least wasn't a lie. I only point the way, but the decisions about what and how to do are always up to them. And I can't tell you how glad I was, at that moment, that I'm writing them this way.

Still, it wasn't easy for them to accept it. They wanted to know who are those people and why are they doing it. Are they all women–something like Andraste, Maker's brides? Why do the two of them have only one guide? And if I knew what would happen, why not tell them directly so they could avoid it?

"Because it wouldn't be interesting for readers" was hardly an answer I could give them.

I managed to answer all of it, though my answers didn't satisfy them, especially not Zev. Clever assassin like him couldn't be fooled by a few cheap tricks. But it had to do.

oOo

It was half past eleven already and I wasn't in the mood for cooking, so I decided we would go out. With caps on their heads that covered the tips of their ears, and with a lot of make up on Air's face, they looked like a two teenagers. Exceptionally good looking, perhaps, but human.

Zevran behaved like a spoiled multi-billionaire brat. He didn't know how to mark the ticket in the tram, because he never had to use one, before–such things were below him. His exotic accent made this impression even stronger. Airam, on the other hand, had a problem staying calm. He was fascinated with everything, and asked a lot of questions. And I mean A LOT.

The ticket marker, for example–we have a system where it stamps the date and the time on your ticket, and you can ride for either 15 minutes, or 1 hour, depending on which ticket you bought. Airam was watching it with enthusiasm every time someone put the ticket into it. How could it write? How could it know what time it was? Does that mean it has a mind? Is it controlled by a Fade spirit? Am I sure it's not? Absolutely, hundred percent sure? It can't turn into an abomination? That would be fun to watch!

And that was just the ticket. Let me say here that I really admire Zevran's patience.

We had a quick lunch in a restaurant where my elderly boss goes for steaks–he says it's the only place in Slovakia they make them more or less right. My elves are not that snobbish, thank the Maker, and the steaks proved to be a good choice–something both of them knew.

This time the problem was that everyone else was staring at them. Their ears, specifically. They pulled off their caps when we entered the restaurant. But, as we talked in English, everybody assumed they were just another pair of eccentric tourists. At least I think so, because we were just starting with desert, when a little boy, five years old at most, ran to us and tugged Airam on the sleeve.

"Uncle elf, where did you get those ears?" he asked in . (All kids call all men 'uncle', and women 'auntie' here.)

Airam looked at me. "He asks where did you get those ears," I translated.

"Well... I was born with them?"

"He is a real elf, from a story, you know. He came to visit me," I said. What? It's a bad thing, to lie to kids.

The boy frowned. "But elves don't exist! Daddy says they're just in fairy tales!" he squeaked angrily.

"Dominik!" A young woman whose heels were taller than herself scurried to us. "Don't bother the gentleman!" From her glare it was clear that she considered us all to be demented drug addicts.

"But I want those ears! I want them I want them I want them!"

The mother glared at us, hissed at her son to 'wait until we get home' and dragged him away. Poor kid.

But, ah, you should have been there when I took them to the biggest bookstore in town, after lunch. There is a huge part with foreign books, and more than half of them are in English. Airam's eyes lit up like beacons.

"What a wonderful world!" He flipped through one, with trembling hands. "Can we stay here for a moment?" he begged.

"As long as you wish," I said.

Zevran chuckled. "I hope they have beds here. He won't leave until he checks every one of these books. You are aware of that, yes?"

Airam didn't listen. He was already piling books he liked to a neat little heap on the floor. Zevran wanted to say something, but when I showed him shelves with books in Italian, he changed his mind.

"Antivan," he breathed, his voice bit hoarse, and I realised just how much he must have missed his home. "Almost Antivan. There are few differences," he corrected himself after he read a bit. "But how is it possible? How can the languages in different worlds be this same?"

Fortunately it didn't seem he expected me to answer that.

Needless to say, we spent a lot of time in that bookstore. It took some convincing and a promise that he could take any of my books he liked, but in the end Airam reduced the number of books to a 'minimum few he really needed'. I had to giggle at his choice: they were all fantasy books about magic and magicians. He thought they were books about how magic works in our world. I told him that there was no magic, but what do I know, right? Just because I don't have magic, doesn't mean nobody has.

In the end Airam bought "only" ten books. Zevran grinned, when he saw him loaded with bags.

"I bet you miss Shale now."

"Tch." Airam lifted his chin. "This is nothing. Though I'd prefer my backpack to these funny bags... who in the Void makes a bag of paper?"

"Ah, but I'm sure Leliana would love them," Zevran said. "Let's just hope we won't return the same way as we came, or they'll be all torn."

"Then let's go buy you a backpack," I suggested. "I'm sure you'll like them more than those you use in Ferelden."

We still have at home my grandpa's old backpack, from 1950's... it's a big, shapeless bag made of flax, with narrow leather straps. Any hard thing you'd put in inevitably dug a hole in your back after ten minutes. And if a whole weight was carried on shoulders, after few hours carrying it your lumbar spine would be blocked and hurt. If that was a backpack from a few decades ago, I was pretty sure those from 16th century were even worse. It made me wonder why they didn't make better use of Zevran's skills with massage.

We went to the nearest outdoor and camping store, and now it was Zevran's turn to act like a little boy in wonderland. The shop assistants all stared at us; I heard two of them argue, in hasty whispers, about whether we're a part of a film crew, or if we are just freaks. I don't know if Zevran heard them, but he didn't pay any attention to them. He was too busy admiring sleeping bags.

"And they are for very cold weather?" he asked again. "It would keep a person warm even in the Frostback Mountains?"

I checked the label. It was the bag for -43oC. I don't know how cold it is in the Frostback Mountains, but I assumed it should be enough. After all, Ferelden is based on Britain, not on Canada.

Then we moved to tents. Mountain tents. Only a little bit over 1.5 kilos. Weatherproof. Pitched in a few minutes. Love at first sight. Zevran wanted only two, for himself and Airam. But, as the price was ridiculously low, compared to Fereldan standards, Airam insisted on one for everyone, and a few spare ones. Zevran was also fascinated by those small utility tents, but the idea of pitching them above the latrines every evening threw Airam into a loud laughing fit, so that idea was abandoned. Airam, on the other hand, was fascinated by air beds, but Zevran was too suspicious. He wasn't a fly to sleep in air, he proclaimed.

In the end we left the store with twelve of tents, sleeping bags, sleeping mats and thermo bottles, two big sets of plastic dishes (orange and dark blue), several bags of extra pegs and other tent spare parts, and one self-inflating pillow, that Airam obtained for himself.

"I do hope you'll land in a nice, wide and clean space when you return," I said when I saw the big pile that the shop assistants carried out.

Airam chuckled. "Well, if it drops on heads of darkspawn, you won't hear me complain."

I was just dialling the number for taxi, when my cell phone rang.

"Having a good time with your elven cookies?" Lucy asked.

"Wonderful! We're shopping-"

"Without me? Unforgivable."

"Aren't you having a lunch with your future mother in law?"

"It's the afternoon already," she snapped. Ah. It apparently didn't go very well. "Wait there and don't move. I'll be there in a few minutes."

Fortunately there was a café next to the outdoor store–it took twenty seven minutes till Lucy arrived. Airam and Zevran in the meantime managed to taste all 16 types of coffee they had there. I just hoped that their small elven bladders would last till we got home.

"So how was the lunch?" I asked as we drove home.

"Are you trying to ruin my mood again? Tell me, why are the mothers of best men always the worst hags?"

"Hags? You mean witches?" Airam lifted his eyes from the Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone he started reading the moment we got into the car. "You said there's no magic in this world," he turned back to me.

Zevran chuckled. "I have impression that this time it was just a metaphor, _bello mio_."

"Oh." Airam immediately lost interest again.

Lucy smiled. "Say, Zevran. You're an assassin, right? Maybe you could help me..."

"Don't give him silly ideas!" I stopped her. "What if he takes you seriously?"

"Zev is not an assassin anymore," Airam added, glaring at Lucy.

Zevran chuckled. "Oh? What am I then, if I may know?"

Airam's ears turned pink. "Well... my bodyguard?" he suggested.

"That I am," Zevran agreed proudly, which made Airam blush even more.

oOo

"This is all what you bought?" Lucy shook her head. "That won't do. None of this is fit for the party."

"What party?" I asked warily.

"You didn't forget Dana was thirty six this Tuesday and she's having a party in D Club? I originally thought I'd spend whole day with my bellowed future mother in law, but, now that nightmare is over, I'm definitely going."

Ah. The lunch must had been even worse than I thought. "Well, I'm not holding you. But why should we–"

"What do you mean, _why_? They have a unique opportunity to explore this world, and you want them to spend their Saturday night at home? How can you be so cruel?"

"But I'm sure Air would rather read his new books," I tried.

"And I bet Zev would rather go to the party," she said.

"Oh, don't mind _us_," Airam cut in. "We always love to hear what we want. Right, Zev?"

"But the party sounds good," Zevran tried.

I had to admit defeat. Things were getting out of my control.

oOo

It started fifteen, twenty at most, minutes after we met with my friend. We entered another store to buy 'something fit for the party' for Airam and Zevran.

"I feel weird," Airam complained, "as if my heart wanted to jump out of chest."

Zevran gave him a stern look. "And you feel dizzy, yes? And anxious?"

"Yes," Airam confirmed. "How do you know that?"

"Because I feel the same. But our... friends, here seem unaffected. That cannot be coincidence, no?"

"Yes, you are poisoned, if that's what you're insinuating here," I said.

"Ah. I must say, I'm surprised you admitted it so easily. I expected much more resistance."

Did I think Zevran was scary before? Well. The difference between then and now was difference between angry kitty and angry Bengal tiger.

"What are you talking about?" Lucy asked.

"These brats insisted on tasting every single coffee they had in that café from before. They didn't drink it all, but they had some eight cups. Despite my warning not to do so."

Zevran wasn't convinced. "We didn't know it was poison! If we knew, we wouldn't have drank it at all."

"It's not poison. Any food would make you sick, if you had too much."

"She's got a point, Zev," Airam murmured. "Don't panic. I'm a healer. If it's just food poisoning, I can deal with it."

"We'll stop at a pharmacy on the way back, maybe they'll have something for it. But now we have more important thing to do! We're supposed to be at the party in three hours, and you're still dressed like high schoolers!"

oOo

In the end, I went to the pharmacy while they were shopping. And good thing I did. When I said I had too much coffee and probably was overdosed with caffeine, the pharmacist almost called an emergency. I never thought it was such a serious thing. It took all my skills in fabulation (sounds much better than lying) to convince her that it wasn't that bad.

So she concluded that the poison wasn't in the blood yet, and it could be stopped with activated charcoal. Eeeewww. I remembered the disgusting tablets – I had to take them only once, when I was four, and it created a life-long impression. She also gave me laxatives. In case it was too late and it was in the blood already. It's easy to recognise it's too late, she assured me - it's when diarrhoea starts.

I had a brief vision of an anxious, angry assassin tap-dancing in front of the toilet, while his only true love occupied it, and my corpse was lying in the red pool on the kitchen floor. It was enough to make my hands shake, as I paid. The pharmacist asked if I was sure I was all right and if I didn't want to go to the hospital after all. I tried to give her reassuring smile. Judging by her look, it didn't work.

I raced back and forced them to take it, praying that it would work.

"Thank you," Airam smiled at me. "But, perhaps you should take it as well? You're green in face, you look more poisoned than us."

Zevran gave me a knowing look and chuckled. "Do not worry, Air. That poison is deadly only in higher doses. So let's hope nothing bad happens any more today, yes?"

Remind me please, why exactly do I love this man?

oOo

Thanks to the activated charcoal and Airam's healing spells, they were cured in two hours. They also had several outfits like movie stars. At least that's what Lucy said. I'm completely useless in the matters of fashion. We bought bouquets and box of chocolates – they couldn't go to the party without any present – and went home to get ready. I still didn't like the idea of going anywhere, especially after the coffee incident, but I was outvoted. They wanted to see and experience as much as possible. And knowing they wouldn't be here much longer, how could I not let them?

To Airam's disappointment, we decided we wouldn't mask them in any way. We would say that they are movie stars, trying to live in to their roles. That's why they had to always keep their masks. It took hours to put those ears on, please don't touch! That way, even if they made some silly mistake, or wouldn't know how to react, they could always pretend it was intentional.

More difficult–but also more fun–was to explain them what a movie was. And as this was one occasion where showing is better than telling, I turned on the TV.

Zevran walked around it. "How did you get those people inside?"

"Don't be silly, Zev," Airam said smugly. "They're not inside that box. It's some kind of portal to the theatre. They're doing performance and we get to watch them."

"No... well, both of you are right, in a way. The people are not inside. They had a performance, once, in a past. It was recorded, as a series of pictures. That's called a movie. Then that's put in the box and you can watch it, any time you want."

Lucy was crying with laughter, while the two of the stared at me as if I sprouted several extra heads. I know it was a crappy explanation. Try to do it better, if you think you can do it.

"It's like a story in pictures. There are stories in words, those are books, and then there are stories in pictures, and those are movies," I tried again.

Airam furrowed his brows. "So you created this... portable theatre, to watch those... stories in pictures?"

"Sort of. And the people, the performers, they can become very popular and known all around the world. That's what we call a movie star and that's what you'll pretend to be on this party. We will say that you are preparing for making a movie–those pictures–and that's why you have to pretend you don't know anything about this world. Understand?"

"I'll try. But, this is a funny world, you know... you could go to the theatre any time you want, nobody's shutting you in a tower–and you create these funny boxes, and stay at home. I'd wish I could–" he stopped, realizing he said more than he wanted.

"You have never been in the theatre?" Zevran asked, surprised. "Not once?"

"Not in a real one," said Airam. "We were apostates; going to the theatre was too dangerous. In the Tower... we had performances, sometimes. But those were all about Andraste, or some of her followers. Everyone had to attend, but most of us usually dozed through it. I certainly did."

"We have also real theatres. And tomorrow, I'll take you into one," I decided. Operas are in Italian, with English subtitles. They'd both be able to understand. I would have to rewrite the ending of their stay here, but when I saw Airam, shining with enthusiasm, it was completely worth it.

oOo

After the discussion of the strategy, it took Airam twenty minutes to get ready for the party. We dragged Zevran out of the bathroom after forty minutes. No, you dirty-minded monkeys, he wasn't naked! He was doing his hair. Forty minutes.

Finally, at half past seven, we were on our way. D Club is on the opposite side of a town; I spent the whole day warning them not to drink any alcohol, under the threat of most painful death: by nice, long, wynne-style preaching. That made even Zevran worried. Ha!

Everyone else was already there, having fun. Zevran almost danced in, flashing a dazzling smile to all sides. It was obvious that he wouldn't have any problem with the role of a movie star. He was practically born for that role. Airam also did his best, but he looked like a future movie star. But, he looked so adorable it didn't really matter. I don't know if you noticed, but Airam can be quite adorable charmer, when he wants.

Within ten minutes, they had charmed all the ladies and annoyed all the guys. But even guys had to admit that their acting was worth Oscar.

"I wouldn't be surprised to find out they're real elves from some middle age fantasy country," one guy told me. "They never make a mistake! Their act when my mobile rang - I've never seen anything like it!"

There were many curious questions about how I met them, why are they with me, and so on. I was vague and mysterious, hinting that it's a movie based on a game, partially made in Slovakia, but refusing to tell the name and the director. That, more than anything, convinced them it had to be true. It almost made me feel bad - these were my friends, I didn't like making fools of them, but it couldn't be helped. Keeping my two elven brats safe was a higher priority.

Fortunately, the attention soon moved away from them. Zevran looked bit disappointed, in fact. But, the simple truth is, that there is a reason why D Club is one of favourites places of my friends: bowling. Not something you'd expect on a birthday party... at least in this part of the world. We discovered it during college, and since then use every opportunity to play it. Which, due to our busy agendas, isn't more than a few times a year. So finally being together and able to play - not even appearance of a pair of weird actors can top that.

For a while, they just watched. Airam had never seen it before, but Zevran flashed another of his smiles at the nearest woman. "We have something similar in Antiva... but our pins are harder to knock down, " he said in a husky tone, making some of my friends blush.

"How is he doing that?" one of them asked.

"Doing what?"

"Making everything sound like a double entendre!"

"The fool was born that way already," I heard Airam mutter softly.

Soon, they joined the game. Zevran was pretty good, actually, even managed few strikes. Airam was clumsier, but not bad for a total beginner, and was improving with every round. A bit too quickly, in fact. The ball simply followed his will, as someone noted; soon they were joking he must be telekinetic. I would have been annoyed, if the reason wasn't painfully obvious to me.

The silly assassin, of course. Smiling, flirting, even winking at the ladies, and in between occasionally rolling a strike. And the more he smiled, the more Airam ignored him, focusing only on his ball. Oh, of course, he was also smiling, in that adorable way of his, and talked with other men... But, I happen to be his author - he can't fool me, not in a million years.

Zevran was in trouble.

It wasn't until we got into the car to return to my flat that Zevran's brain gradually started to work again. Perhaps it was the fresh, cold air in the car? If it got any fresher and colder, we would all be frozen to our seats, see. Or maybe it was Air's determined staring at the black window, and short disheartened replies to any Zevran's comments. He then tried to apologize, and when that didn't work, he started sulking as well. They were both sulking.

They were sulking in the car. They were sulking as they had a shower and put on pyjamas. And they were sulking as they went to sleep.

It didn't stop the nightmares from coming.

But, as I was opening the door to the bedroom to calm Airam again, I heard another sound. Zevran was humming the tune of the lullaby I was singing the night before.

* * *

Disclaimer: In reality, caffeine overdose is much less fun than described here. Symptoms in adults may include: breathing trouble, changes in alertness, confusion, convulsions, diarrhea, dizziness, fever, hallucinations, increased thirst, irregular heartbeat, muscle twitching, rapid heartbeat, sleeping trouble, increased urination and vomiting. And unless you have a handy healer mage, don't try to take laxatives, or anything else. Go to hospital. Seriously.


	3. Day Three

And the last part.

Thanks to Seika, Song, Dawn, and everyone else who supported me, and all readers, especially those who reviewed. I love you all!

* * *

**Day 3**

Sunday morning was peaceful and uneventful. After a quick breakfast (just Greek yoghurt with strawberry jam and oat flakes), we went for a walk to the lake. Airam still had an expression of an offended, grumpy cat, while Zevran... well, was like a person trying to pat an offended, grumpy cat. But I know my crazy kid.

We fed the swans, and watched puppies chasing gulls and kids laughing on the swings. Soon it became obvious that Airam was trying hard not to smile. Good. Now for the second part of the plan.

"All right, kids. Why don't you stay here for a while? Here are the keys - this round flat thing is for the entrance gate, you saw how I opened it, right? And this red one is from my flat. Fifth floor, okay? I'll make you lunch, and then I need to finish writing something, so don't hurry."

"And what are we supposed to do here?" Airam asked. "No, I'm coming with you. I won't bother you, I'll be reading in our room-"

"Nonsense," I cut in. "You can... walk around, and talk or... try the swing? Whatever. But I don't want to see you at home for at least one hour. Understood?"

Zevran gave me an approving nod and smiled. Airam looked at us and frowned again.

"Bye, then," I said, before he could start complaining again. "See you in an hour. And remember, Air: no magic."

oOo

They returned in two and half hours. Zevran was soaked, and shivering from the cold, but happy. "I didn't freeze him," Airam said haughtily. "He just fell into the lake."

"He _fell_."

"Yes. Isn't that right, Zev?"

"S-s-sí. Wha-wha-wha-tever you s-say," came the unconvincing reply.

"All right, all right. I think I don't want to know anyway," I muttered. "Just stop dripping water on my carpet. Bring him dry clothes, Air, and you should preventively cast some healing magic on him. Unless you want him to die of pneumonia. I'll make him a hot tea."

Airam's guilty blush without peeping a word of protest, as he sprinted to their room was all I needed to know.

oOo

The afternoon was less adventurous. We stayed at home. Zevran was watching some documentaries on TV, Airam was fully absorbed in reading Harry Potter, occasionally asking questions like what is a zoo. He found it weird, that people would capture wild animals, just so they could stare at them from behind a glass.

It was nice. I was aware that it would be very problematic if they were here also during the work week... they would soon get bored and frustrated, and do something stupid. But still, I wished I could keep them with me bit longer. I would miss them so much...

"You should go pack yourself, boys," I said, after some time. "I... I sent a few hints to Erwin, and if he understood, he'd do the ritual to get you back tonight. Better be ready."

"We're already going back?" Airam asked.

It was nice to hear disappointment in his voice.

oOo

When I found them, they had only their clothes plus two stolen coats–which were now in Danube, on their cruise to the Red Sea. Two days with a writer and a shop-a-holic, and they had so many things it couldn't fit into their new big backpacks. Partially it was because a good third of Air's backpacks were books–the brat didn't forget my promise that he could get whichever of my books he liked.

After all was packed and stuffed in the car, it was time to get ready for the opera. Airam was ready in half an hour - and I have to say, he was quite stunning in that suit. He was aware of it, too, though of course he tried to hide it. But Zevran had his golden moment of the whole stay, that I think even the opera didn't surpass, when I showed him the curling tongs. The way he looked at it and held it, you'd think it was the Most Sacred Relic. Urn of Andraste? A nice vase. But this! This was something crucial for every assassin that cared for his look. It broke his heart when he realised he couldn't take it with him.

Finally, we were ready to go. They went down to the car, while I checked that they didn't forget anything and locked the door. It felt odd. Incomplete. Abandoned. I pushed away the thoughts how lonely it would be to sleep there without them in the next room and hurried after them, forcing myself to smile. I would not ruin their last evening here with my depression.

oOo

Have you seen _Rigoletto_? It takes place in the 16th century Italy, and it features a lecherous Duke who thinks he's irresistible, an innocent lady who loves him despite knowing what kind of bastard he is and is willing to sacrifice her life, and an assassin who wants to help but in the end kills the lady.

Airam loved it. You could write a 'How to Enjoy Opera' manual from his reactions. At the end, he was the first one to stand up–nobody told him he should, you know, it was a spontaneous reaction–and applauded so hard that the other people were shooting curious glances at him, smiling. Zevran, on the other hand had tears in his eyes and for a long time after it ended, he was lost in thoughts.

We still had some time till their departure; if everything went as I planned, the whole thing wouldn't start before midnight. So we went to the bar, where Lucy's fiancee, Filip, soon joined us. The yesterday fight had to be even worse than I thought, as he was eager to agree and smile at everything she said. Good thing he came. I didn't feel like having fun at all, and was quite happy to just listen to their plans without having to say anything. My two elves weren't saying anything either, sipping hot chocolate–they decided they didn't care about coffee, really.

"If you can contact Erwin, and arrange this departure, then you can come visit us sometimes, right?" Airam suddenly asked, cutting in Filip's joke right before the point.

"I don't know,' I said.

"I don't think it's a good idea. Not during the Blight," Zevran pointed out. "But after that, provided we're still alive, you should come. It would be fun."

That surprised me. Airam, I could understand. There was something between us, a bond, an understanding, but Zevran? "You'd want me to come?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I thought you didn't trust me."

He looked at me, with amused smile. "If I didn't trust you, you wouldn't be here now, no?"

It made me proud.

oOo

And finally, the time had come. We paid, got into the cars, Filip insisting on coming with us, and went to my favourite spot in the town – a lake with a little park where I usually go to take photos of swans. There we took out all the luggage, and brought it near the bank. My cell phone showed twenty minutes to midnight.

We walked around and talked, silly little talk that didn't matter at all. After a while, the two of them walked a bit apart and sat on the bank. In those expensive suits, brats! And in November! They would catch cold! But I heroically resisted temptation to go over and scold them. When did I become so Winne-ish? I sighed. Lucy put her arm around me.

"They were right, you know. You can always write yourself in."

"That wouldn't be the same," I said. "It wouldn't be real."

"How can you tell? This was."

Filip stared at us, totally nonplussed, but before he could ask, the wind started blowing. It wouldn't be that strange, on cold November night, if the lake didn't start glimmering. It was beginning. I checked the time: 23:58. Erwin was a reliable man.

Then the air unfolded. Like when you pull away the curtain just a bit, to peek out of the window. Behind it was only darkness... probably because it was midnight over there, as well. I never realised it until that moment, but it never even occurred to me it could be otherwise and that Erwin's midnight could be few our later or sooner than mine. That would cause a lot of problems. Thank the Lord and the Maker that my Ferelden had the same time zone as me.

"I guess this is it," Airam said with a smile. "Thank you for everything you did for us. I hope we will meet again, but if not, we will never forget you."

I just nodded, because if I tried to talk, I'd start crying. I hugged him, and then Zevran, and then they turned and walked over to the rift. They turned back and Airam waved, and they stepped in–and then they were gone.

It was over.

Lucy offered that I could stay at their apartment tonight, but I refused. I wanted to be alone with my self-pity, though I'd rather die than to admit it.

I was locking the door behind me, when I heard a voice in my mind–same like when I'm writing.

"_... it, will you! I'm telling you, we're all right! There was this old lady-"_

"_She wasn't old, Air."_

"_Well, not as old as Gran, sure, but I think older than Erwin... maybe like lady Isolde..."_

So they arrived safely. I sighed with relief, but then I realised just what I heard. That brat. Compared me. Me! To Isolde?!

I had a feeling there will be a heavy hailstorm in Ferelden tomorrow.

But then I noticed something on the bed. A little flower, made of ice. And a piece of paper with _Thank you_, with their names.

Or perhaps I could make it a bit AU and give them a week of summer weather...


End file.
